


Blood of A Nation

by Smolragebaby



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Sad, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5935438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolragebaby/pseuds/Smolragebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The downside to living forever, you watch all those around you die. You watched them grow and now, it ends in bloodshed. The nations have lived through horrible tragedies and while they maintain a straight face, it's difficult to forget those who you knew closely.<br/>More tags will be adds the more characters I add.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. King Charles I of England

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm MNR90210... Or Sealand90210 on my fan fiction.net... or Italy90210 on Tumblr... yeah it just made things easier to do by remembering the end number. Anyway I'm transferring all my stories from fan fiction.net to here and there will likely be edits that aren't on the fan fiction account. Anyway please enjoy. Sorry if I don't have accents or proper language for this specific chapter, it's a bit of a hassle considering how far back this chapter takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may not be factually correct. For that, I apologize.

Blood of a Nation

The trial and execution of Charles I of England

England's perspective 

January 26th, 1649

You would never guess that there had been a war. The utter defeat of the King's army made this more like a humiliation than an actually war. It had all ended and I sat in the court room listening to this pathetic case and thought back on events. The Scots had turned him over to us, not for free of course, but still willingly. But, what would they do with him? I did not have much of a say in the matter since I was too close to the Royal family and they thought it would cloud my judgment. But, I know why. It is because if I, the physical embodiment of the country, were to seek mercy upon my monarch, it would mean most of my people would rethink this case and wish for merciful actions to be taken against the ruler, which was not on their agenda. The radicals voted to try him because to them, only a few, he was a tyrannical man. However; he was no such thing.

I sympathized with him. He had been raised with the idea of divine right. James, the previous king, had believed that he was ordained by god, but made no move to enact such ideas upon my Parliament or people. Charles, however, was a different story. He believed so strongly in this principle that he hardly ever called Parliament and applied taxes without the consent of Parliament. It did not help that these religious radicals sought to change everything. The House of Lords had sided with me, and thus Charles, that this indictment was outrageous. I too would have been held for treason, but no such charges can be brought against a personification. What else could they do? If I am harmed, it heals slowly, but still heals. My people also loved me. I was them and they are me. Imprisoning the being that was the physical embodiment of the country and its people would be disastrous move to make for the political group responsible. It was the only reason I was forced to sit in the seats rather than next to the King, not like anyone could see it.

I watched Charles Stuart sit there,almost defeated, as they read the verdict. He was guilty and sentenced to death. My thoughts burst and I shot up. They led the King away, much to his distaste and protest. Once he was taken away, my protect began. "This is outrageous! He may be disliked by you, but that is not enough reason to convict him on these obviously trumped up charges!" I angrily cried out to the 68 judges, who seemed to be confident with their false verdict. John Bradshaw, the President of the Court, stood up firmly dismissing the others and came over to me. "Arthur!" I slightly flinched at hearing him say my human name. "Your mind is clouded. This is the right thing to do for the betterment of England. God wills this."

"But I am England!" I retorted. "I am this country! I am the people! You, who claim to seek the benefit of my people and I, only seek power, not justice." I was tired of this bloody mess. What happened to the Elizabethan era? My Queen had brought such a time to this land and it seemed to be unraveling before my eyes.

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH! You only know what has happened in the past. We know what will be good for your future. Now keep your mouth shut and leave. Do not forget, we are also your people." He made his way past me. I glared at him and left, heading straight for St. James Palace, where Charles had been taken to the day before the trial began. I made it a habit to visit him when I could. I think he was grateful to have some company. I knew that to the eyes of these radicals, denouncing the legitimacy of their court and claiming the divinity of his rule had only hammered the nail in his coffin. That didn't stop me from arguing for his sake. He was not the tyrant they made him out to be, at least in politics. He was nicely mannered and a devout religious man. As I entered his room, he sat on the bed, praying. I stood off to the side and allowed him a moment of silence.

Soon, he finished and stood up while looking over at me. "I will not run from this if that is what you were here to inquire about."

I shook my head. "They are going to execute you and in four days no less."

He sighed and turned to the window. "I do not fear death. I am still the rightful king and that will not change. Even in death."

I smirked a little. "It is that attitude that caused all this"

"I understand. They cannot accept the truth and so they look to undo the truth. By as many unholy means necessary." I looked at him. He could have his moments where he, too, thought he knew best for the country. But what do they know? Both parties thought they knew what was best and here is where it ends. The opposite party gets killed simply for the difference of opinion. It is not how my country should be run. With fear of being killed for simply a slight difference of opinion. Not to mention, this notion of God. This God has caused more than enough turmoil in the past. That I know all too well.

Unfortunately, it was too late to change the situation. The damage was done and I could not change it. Oh Elizabeth, if you were here, what would you tell me to do? What can I do? I felt guilt at my inability to help Charles. Sensing my mood, Charles set a hand on my shoulder and stood there. "I accept my fate. Do not worry." He smiled. I seemed to have nothing more to say to him after that and left him with his thoughts as I headed to the manor outside of London. The area was quiet and peaceful, away from the political cause occurring in London. The carriage stopped in front of the lavish door and I stepped out and headed inside my manor. I took my mind off things by preparing my Earl Grey tea and opening a book and entered a new world away from this chaos stricken one...

 

-Four days later-

January 30th, 1649

I had avoided London since the verdict was announced. Knowing that my monarch was sentenced to be beheaded for unjust reasons, I had a hard time sleeping. It was on my mind constantly. While the King had expressed his acceptance, I simply could not. The deep seated sorrow. The high rising anger. It all swarmed inside me, constantly stinging me. 

Yesterday, Elizabeth and Henry, two of his children, had stopped by after visiting with their father. Elizabeth had recorded her father's words to her and allowed me read them. I could see her face was stained with her tears as I read the words and felt sorry for his children the most. Of course, I had tried to convince Parliament to allow them to leave, but they wouldn't even consider the idea. Thus, they returned to the White Terror of the Tower of London in a highly emotional state yesterday night. I regret not going with them.

As I prepared myself for the somber day, the Parliament's army came to call on me planning to escort me to the Palace of Whitehall. If I showed up with them, people would think I was supportive of their actions, no matter how much I had previously voiced my opposition. Keeping quiet the entire ride was my only way of controlling this situation. Refusing to acknowledge it. Attempting to go against reality.

The crowd was prominent and I attempted to move up in order to get a better, yet unwanted view of the scaffold. The view would be gruesome, but it may help Charles know I supported him until the end. I noticed the guards bring Charles to execution scaffold in front of the Banqueting House. The soldiers prevented the crowd and myself from getting too close. Charles proudly stood, delivering a speech. It was almost impossible to hear what he was trying to say to everyone, but the others present on the scaffold. There was a small part of me that kept saying this was the right thing to do. Executing the monarch was a good thing? Maybe in the radical's eyes, who were also my people, but to most he was still the monarch… He turned his eyes to look at me then began to pray as he set his head on the wooden block. He stretched his hands when he and the executioner held the ax….

Could I even bare to look? I tried to look away as the executioner swung the ax back….

I can't look, most of me said, but that one part kept me from turning away as the ax was swung down.

This was it. A bloody end. 

The end of the sickly boy who had come from Scotland all those years ago. Taken from the throne and his family.

How would Henrietta ever bare the news of her husband's death… What about his children? Charles…. James…. Elizabeth…. Henry….. Anne…. Mary…. Henrietta…. What will become of you now that your father, the King, is dead? As soon as I saw the head drop to the ground and blood drip down the wooden block, I ran….  
I just ran….  
I just had to get away from this place. Some of the crowd cheered, others cried.

This was too much to bear. I have seen much, but an act this extreme was not something I am prepared to handle. The pub was the only place open and I headed in there and drank this memory down. It all went away within a matter of minutes as the burning, intoxicating feel of ale washed down my throat, taking with it the few days I did not wish to remember…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://smolragebaby.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/smolragebaby/)   
>  [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCO6UK9RAfnwSHTEw0xWXz_Q)


	2. King Louis XVI of France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not be doing accents.

The execution of Louis XVI or France

France's Perspective

January 21st, 1793

For the longest time, I mocked England. For his inability to handle the uproar caused by his monarchy and the resulting execution of Charles… It is only now that I understand how helpless he felt… To watch the person you watched grow up, stand before the upset lower classes for something they believe him to have committed. I decided to stay away from the National Convention and the trial. Politics is so trivial and complicated, I would rather enjoy my wine and occasional company….

My lovely city of Paris, stained with the anger and frustration caused by hundreds of years of feudalism

I settled onto the balcony of my house, which stood outside the city of Paris. It was far enough to not get swept into the radical movements, but sadly close enough to where I could hear the cheering of a brainwashed crowd. I had no desire to going to this… hideous display of justice, but for the sake of the people I had every intention of seeing then end the absolute monarchy. I supported no one, but seeing the downfall of a family I had close ties to is not easy to digest.

I sipped my early morning wine and set it on the table before grabbing my coat and heading out toward the stables. The stable boys were all in Paris, so the butler had to feed the horses. My favorite was a beige male Quarter horse named Maximilian. Carefully, I opened the stable's door and found Maximilian. Luckily for me, I knew how to properly place a saddle on a horse. I climbed onto the horse and rode straight into town.

The streets were uncomfortably narrow and filled wall to wall with Parisians. They are a more… temperamental sort of people now and my horse seemed to be upsetting them. I looked down upon them with a somber look written on my face, which seemed to calm them as soon as they realized that the embodiment of their country was in the crowd. I made it to the massive precession occurring, headed to the Place de la Revolution. Much to my dismay, multitudes of men lined the street with the serious intention of keeping the citizens from getting to the king before they could carry out "justice." I was let through, surprisingly, and rode next to the carriage. Soldiers glared at me, yet none made the attempt of stopping me.

"Your majesty? Are you there?" I questioned if he was actually alive. The curtains did not move and no reply was given to my inquiry. I sighed and strolled along the carriage. As we approached the scaffold, a bloodied guillotine awaited its next victim. I was shocked that the new government intended to make this a bloody and public execution. It is no way for anyone to die. The curtain suddenly moved, revealing the Louis' disheveled face. "Francis… please do me this favor and look after my family. They do not need to suffer any more than they have now." His true sorrow was something I wish the Convention had witnessed. I smiled softly. "I will do what I can for them, Auguste," Louis seemed to be a bit taken back by the name, but he felt comforted by it. "I remember when you would call me that… I wish everything could have been fixed… these people will learn the hard way that this government is no better than the one they helped overthrow." With the last statement, he set back the curtain on me and his country. I did not know what I could do to help his family, but I could at least break the news and ease their sadness.

The carriage soon arrived by the scaffold and within minutes, another tragic tale came to a bloody end. People cried despicable phrases at the dead man, who was one of the multiple reasons this land, my land, had fallen into ruin. Oh how my city has become tainted… I have lost it to madness. I turned Maximilian away from this scene and quickly strode off with the sole purpose of getting as far away as possible. A pit in the stomach grew as they shouted,

"Vive la Revolution!"

Once I made it outside of the crowd, I headed to the Temple Prison, where they kept the royal family. I tied the horse down to a pole and walked up to the door. "You are not permitted to enter here!" A soldier blocked my path. He is a new one… "Do you know who I am?" "It does not matter who you are! You cannot ent-." Another soldier, much older, stepped closer, "My deepest apologies, Monsieur Bonnefey, young Philippe is still learning the ways. You may enter." I passed the two. When I was out of their site, they whispered among each other. "Monsieur, why did you let him pass?" "Boy, I recommend you take him seriously, he represents our land and our people. He is also the only person who could rally the people against this madness…. If only he knew that…."

As I worked my way through to the area I came across the familiar cell and stepped inside. The queen, Marie, sat holding her children trying to calm their loud sobs. I could only imagine the pain. "Francis…" Marie spoke gently, surprised I would actually come to their side, "D-do you bring news of my husband?" She already knew the answer, but she preferred to hear it from me that the act had been carried out.

I looked at the children and then back at her.

All I could muster up was a simple nod.

Their screams and tears were almost too much to bear. I have heard them too many times and this was unfortunately another one of those times. Due to the previous wails of the children, they had managed to fall asleep. Tears stained their beautiful royal faces. Marie wiped her tears. Oh how she had changed. Her previous beauty was masked by exhaustion and sadness, if only Austria could she how low she had fallen. "Will you please write to my brother and my country, Austria. I want you to tell them not to come or help me any longer… it would just cause more suffering for my children…" She looked at the tiny window. "I am afraid I shall be next… and they will use any charges to see to it that I am put down." She sat with repose and never once showed anything less that courage and strength. I looked at her. "I will try to do that for you Marie, but you know as well as I that they will be very unhappy if they discover that letter."

"I know… but what more can I lose…?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://smolragebaby.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/smolragebaby/)   
>  [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCO6UK9RAfnwSHTEw0xWXz_Q)


	3. Marie Antoinette of Austria

The execution of Marie Antoinette of Austria, Queen of France and Navarre

Austria's Perspective

October 15th, 1793 (Day before the execution)

'Why on Earth am I here? I could be at home, playing the piano, than here… at France's house. He obviously hated me.' The tension in the manor was palpable as I walked through. 'How could they do this to the Royal family?! To Marie…' I looked into one of the rooms that the butler had said France would be in. France was staring out the window toward the city of Paris. I knocked on the door frame. He turned to me, his old enemy, and we just stood there, staring.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, France. What is the meaning of this outrage? All of Europe is watching your place and worried about the consequences." I demanded answers. He faced me, refusing to hesitate even a second, "I don't like this anymore than all of you, but I have no power to stop it. I've tried everything. They're already up in arms and with you and Prussia on our border, threatening war, it just makes them angry." France looked at the floor. I huffed. "These people need to be set straight. They live their lives under our royals, it's the way God wanted it. They need to understand and accept that fact."

"They won't at this point. They're too paranoid…" France turned back to his city. "You don't have to go, you know. It's… a very gruesome sight to behold."

I came over to the window. "I'm going, Marie was always a sweet girl. I was there when she was born, I'd prefer to be here when she dies. Her family can't come, so I came in their stead." We looked towards Paris. Oh the lovely city was gone, replaced by paranoia and rebellion. "Do you have any tea… for the nerves…," I questioned. France just nodded and pointed. I left him in silence and went around the manor looking for the kitchen. 'He needs more maids or servants here. This place needs to be managed.' I had stumbled upon the kitchen after a half hour of being lost. I began to shuffle through the drawers and cupboards looked for something that resembled tea, even coffee would work.

The butler came into the kitchen, "Monsieur Bonnefoy would like to know if you will be coming to dinner as well." I thought about it. "Yes and where is the tea?" The butler went over to a little cupboard and opened it up, showing an array of various teas, imported from various territories. The butler left and I picked out a type of tea and started to make it. It usually wouldn't take a long time, but I had a lot on my mind. 'If these people are indeed this way, things are going to get very out of hand. When I return to Vienna, I'll send a letter to the other countries on the current circumstances.'

I poured the tea into one of the cups I had found while searching for tea. I sipped it. 'Marie… I'm sorry we couldn't help you in time.' I tried to keep myself calm until I finished my drink. The butler came to get him a little later. "Please come with me Monsieur Edelstein." I followed the butler out to an outside table. France was sitting at one end, so I sat at the other.

"Your house is confusing. You need some more people to help you here." I criticized. "You have not changed a bit. You still have that aristocratic atmosphere around you." France chuckled. I glared and was about to say something rude, but held it back since it would've been too insensitive and I was staying here for free after all.

There was a light breeze in the trees.

"Since you are staying to watch, it be best to leave after her execution… If they know you're here, they'll use you to get what they want. They know we can't die while our countries still stand." France stated in a serious tone. I looked at him. "I had no intention of getting captured, but I will not hesitate to fight them should they try."

"You? Fight?" France laughed. "You were lucky to make it out of the war with Prussia, Spain and I. Hungary had to step in to save you." I lightly blushed in embarrassment. I hated to admit that Hungary was indeed stronger than me, she would try to help me to the point I couldn't handle a gun without hurting myself. Even Italy knew how to fence splendidly, despite all appearances. I just sighed, soon enough they had food in front of them. The silence crept in and the only noise was from the wind and silverware clanking on plates. Neither of us tried to break that silence as we ate. I barely ate anything, it all sank in my stomach leaving a horrible feeling. Pushing the plate away, I got up. "Where is my room? I'm retiring early." France looked at me, slightly confused.

"Why so early?" he asked. I didn't answer and just turned, going back into the manor. I looked around for a room where my bags were placed. I just sat on the bed and took off my glasses. I didn't care about changing and just stared at the ceiling.

'It's just the nerves. That's it.' My memories of little Marie started flooding back…

"Roderich! Roderich!" A little girl came running over to me and hugged me. "M-Marie! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Metastasio." She pouted, "I don't want to learn languages. I want you to play the piano for me, please. I'd rather listen to your lovely music than be lectured." I sighed, trying not to give into her puppy dog look. She kept staring at me and refused to let go until she heard me play. I eventually gave into the Princess's demands. "Come this way." I took her to the piano room and made sure the piano was tuned. "Where would you like to sit?" Marie looked around. "Next to you." I sat and Marie went next to him, waiting patiently for me to play. I looked at her then down at the keys and began to play various classical tunes. Marie watched me play and smiled brightly. The music filled the room so eloquently, Marie eventually moved and started to dance gracefully about the room. 'She is a skilled little dancer,' I thought as the song died down and I stopped playing. "Okay Marie, time to go back to your lessons." The girl's protest went on deaf ears as I gently nudged her out of the room and down the hall. "If I hear good words from Metastasio, I will play for you again, I promise." I smiled softly at her. This motivated her to be on her way….

My eyes flattered open and I sat up, uncomfortably. The room was dark, the sun was barely coming up outside. I went over to his bags and looked for some casual clothes, 'I didn't want to stand out in the crowd of French revolutionaries.' I threw the clothes on the ground and changed. The sun's journey started to show and cries of Parisians started to become more apparent. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in…" The door opened and France leaned on the doorframe. "They have the horses ready. Once we get back to the manor, you will need to get in your carriage and leave. We can't risk you staying longer. The servants will fill it with food and some money to help." I looked at France, 'My long-time enemy was actually helping me'. I smirked a bit.

"Let's go."

October 16th, 1793

The stable boys had to prepare two horses, one was France's favorite, Maximillian, and the other was named Phillip. France climbed onto Maximillian's back and watched me... I was having some trouble getting on. I heard France chuckle at me and he ordered the stable boys help me out. I was finally on the horse, slightly frustrated and embarrassed.

"Try not to make a scene, mon ami… They've become an intolerant sort of people…" France warned. I simply nodded before we rode off to city. The streets were not as packed as they had been at the King's beheading, according to France, but it was still hard to navigate through the people. We got to a part of the crowd where we could see over the crowds. Marie was being transported in open carriage, like a spoil of war. This infuriated me to my core. Their treatment of this sweet girl was completely hideous. I turned to a woman in the crowd. "What was she convicted of?" The woman looked at me in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you? She has been sending money, our money, to those filthy Austrians!"

"I heard she was having orgies in Versailles!" Another added.

"Not to mention she sexual abused her own son!" said another.

My eyes widened and was ready to speak out, France set a hand on me shoulder, "Don't do you. You'll add fuel to the raging fire."

"You expect me to sit here as they unjustly punish Marie for crimes she could have never committed! We've never received any money from her, or the royal family! Not to mention, she loves her children dearly!" My protesting attracted the attention of a few onlookers, even Marie. She looked over, her face pale and hair white and cut. So much different than the last time France had seen her, apparently.

"I don't like this anymore than you do! Don't you understand!? She came into my country and even though I dislike you, I could never dislike her! She was just as you told me all those years ago." France was about to break, all the emotions he had try to keep buried since the beginning of the revolution started boiling to the surface. I fell silent seeing France's broken expression. He looked down and back to Marie. She was looking straight at me, and still she managed to smile. I felt a knife in my heart twist and turn as she got closer to the looming guillotine. I pushed people out of the way to get as close as I could. They took her out, leading her up. A bit up she accidently stepped on the executioner's foot.

"Pardon me sir, I meant not to do it." She continued her way up with dignity and poise. I just wanted to reach out and grab her. 'This is getting out of hand, I really would alert the others to this.' France just looked away, he had seen enough death by the hands of the supposed "humane" machine. Marie looked at the sky and closed her eyes as she was set in position for the guillotine. I wanted to tear my eyes away, but couldn't bear to look away either.

The blade fell seconds later with a clean swipe, cutting Marie's head from her slender neck. I felt like he was about to throw up as people shouted hateful things towards her. France quickly led me out of there.

"We need to leave now… With that little uproar you had, someone was probably notified of your opinions. In which case, someone will come look for you." I simply nodded, trying to keep my nausea down, though the galloping of the horse didn't help. We had to make it out quickly and once at France's manor, France quickly helped me to his carriage.

"Don't stop until you reach the border. They have people everywhere." I was sat down in his carriage. With what little energy I could muster up I spoke, "France… I may hate your guts… but thank you for helping…" I looked away quickly and France froze for a minute.

"I know how much she meant to you… They all mean a lot to us…" France got out and shut the door. I was launched forward as the horses went off, heading straight to the border. I sat, holding onto my seat and nearly broke down.

'Why… Why must this be so hard?!" I tried to keep his emotions in check, but gave in and cried for Marie….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://smolragebaby.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/smolragebaby/)   
>  [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCO6UK9RAfnwSHTEw0xWXz_Q)


	4. President of The United States, Abraham Lincoln

The assassination of U.S President Abraham Lincoln

America's Perspective

April 14th, 1865

W-we won. It's finally over. For that last few years, my people has been fighting in the civil war. The carnage and slaughter of the various battles have been indescribable, but now it's all over. It was hard to watch them fight each other. I knew it was coming. It had to blow up eventually, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't. I failed them and it ended this way. But now, we're united again. Of course there are still tensions, but it will ease out over time, right? I decided to spend my time celebrating at a local D.C bar. There were many people celebrating for the same reason, some not so much. I drank happily, but not enough to be drunk.

My boss, President Lincoln, said he'd be going to some play. I don't remember the name of it, but it sounded like it be fun to go watch sometime. My drinking buddies clanked their glasses together.

It felt good to have a cool class of alcohol run down my throat. I hadn't had any drinks for a while. Most of the time I had been sick and in bed being looked after by Mrs. Mary Todd Lincoln and another nurse. I tried to be useful, even while I was sick I would spend time with Tad while Mr. President was having important meetings or help Mrs. Lincoln with chores. That would be better than having to fight. I don't think I could have picked a side and not look at the enemies and be able to kill them. Only a hundred years ago did I became independent. But what am I rambling on about it's over!

It's time to celebrate the end!

We drank and danced and had an amazing time… until a man came rushing in, panicked and panting. "ALFRED F. JONES?! IS AN ALFRED F. JONES HERE?" He yelled into the bar. I barely heard him over the noise and went over to him, concerned about his worried expression. "Yes. Is something wrong?"

He didn't give an explanation. "Please come with me, hurry!"

I didn't question it and followed him. He took me to a house and across the street people were flying out of a different building crying and yelling. It was hard to hear what they were screaming, but that theater. Ford's theater!? Wait, what could have possibly happen! "Hey tell me what's going on!" I yelled at the man as we got to the door. He looked at me and opened the door. "You'll find out please head into the bedroom down the hall." I rushed in, hearing the wails of Mrs. Mary Todd Lincoln. I ran to her and she was crying, so I held her. "Mrs. Lincoln what happened!?" She wouldn't cease her tears and pointed to the door. As much as I hated to leave her in her sorrow, I needed to know for sure on what the hell was happening. I knocked on the door a few times until someone opened it.

"Oh Alfred…. Come in" The man stepped aside allowing me into the room and I looked and stopped in my tracks.

'No… this… this isn't possible… how?' I leaned against the wall. President Lincoln… had been shot. He was laid on the small bed, diagonally to fit him on the bed. I just slid down the wall in utter shock. The voices around me faded in a haze and a doctor was trying to get my attention. Some of the men had to take me out of the room. I just stood outside the door and within the few minute, I punched the wall in anger which created a hole and further cracks alongside it.

'This isn't suppose happen! Why wasn't he guarded!? Who did this!? This is war is supposed to over! Why didn't anyone give me answers in the first place!?' I rightfully enraged. If they told me when they came to get me, I could still be in there. I am this country, I deserve to know this kind of information, don't I!? Soon the tearful sounds of the President's wife brought me back into reality with a calmer attitude. I went over to her and hugged her. If I can't be there for him, maybe I could... for her.

"Mrs. Lincoln… let's go… it won't help you any if you stay here…." I knew she would have a hard time leaving, but it was the best thing for her.

"No! I won't leave him. Don't make me leave." Her voice rang in my head and I couldn't help but pity her instantly backing down, unwilling to argue with the distraught woman. "Yes Ma'am…." I turned and went outside and found someone who had been in the theater, "Will you tell me what you saw?" The man was shaken but was willing to speak. "W-well we were sitting in the front row… and we heard a shot from the president's seat… when we looked up we saw this man fighting with someone and he jumped from the presidential area to the stage and yelled something. Then went off…" I was a little confused.  
"Who was it!? Who did it!?" I tried my hardest to remain calm, yet holding back my feelings wasn't the easiest thing for me. "Booth, I believe." The name didn't sound familiar to me. "Who is Booth?"

"You don't know about John Wilkes Booth? He's a popular actor around these parts." The man said. I wanted to know more when I heard someone come into the house crying out that William Seward was attacked. 'What is going on tonight!? Could Booth be behind this one too!?' My anger was starting to remerge at this Booth guy. I was ready to find this guy, but now wasn't the time and someone was probably already starting to take actions to find the man. I went back to the house and looked over into a room and saw some people running a telegraph machine, probably getting the news out to the White House. I began to pace around the room, attempting to think of something I could do.

Not even an hour later, though it only felt like a few minutes, Robert Lincoln showed at the house looking worried beyond belief. "Alfred!? Where is my father!?" I simply pointed to the room with his disheveled mother standing nearby. She hadn't stopped her crying, despite the pleading of the doctors and people who were with her husband. I seemed to be the only one who stood up for her to see her dying husband. Robert entered the room just to see what was happening. I stayed with Mrs. Lincoln and tried to help her, though she wouldn't sit still or even allow my help. I felt so helpless in this situation.

I decided to stay close to the telegraph machine, trying to look over and see what notes were being written.  
Moving over to sit against the wall, I waited… 

and waited… 

and waited… 

until I managed to fell asleep. It was hardly six hours later when I awoke. Little Tad was lying next to me, with his head on one of my legs. He had been crying, judging from the tears on his eyes. He couldn't be here. He shouldn't be here. I moved and lifted him up into my arms. It didn't seem to stir him.

Mrs. Lincoln had taken her crying outside, along with Robert. I joined them, while carrying Tad in my arms. They looked at me.

"Let's take you back to the House. Alright…" I needed to take them away from here. I didn't know if Mr. President was dead or not, but I knew he would want me to take care of his family in his absence. A carriage showed up and I helped Mrs. Lincoln in and handed Tad over to his elder brother before getting in myself. The tearful silence in the atmosphere made things somber between the three and quiet. I didn't dare speak a word, for fear of breaking the slight calm that had befallen Mrs. Lincoln's face and possibly mind. I will let them do as they will… grieve however they wish… but they cannot be here…

Approaching the entrance of the white house wasn't the same without the president. Mary got out on her own when the carriage stopped and went into the house. I took Tad from Robert again and let him go to be with his mother as I cared for his younger brother. Inside the house, the sadness was too present. Everyone seemed to be gone. For once, it was empty. I went to Tad's room and laid him down on his bed before taking a chair. I was probably the best one to stay with him. He had grown on me the last few years more than anyone. He woke up only a few minutes later and jumped forward looking around.

"A-Al! Where am I?!" He looked at me with tears in his eyes. I set a hand on his shoulder.

"We're back at the House. Your mother is here too as is your brother, but you should give them a little space." I tried to stay as calm as possible but this was too heart-breaking and a tear leaked from behind the glasses. Tad took a hand and put it on my face before hugging me tightly and crying into my shirt, mumbling something inaudible. I held him and let him cry as much as possible. A few minutes later, around 7:22 in the morning, it felt like a piece of me had broken apart and I started to cry along with Tad, though eventually his stopped and it was his turn to comfort me.

I really had no right to cry like I did. Tad should still be the one crying, it was part of his family that died after all, so why couldn't I stop? All I know is it continued on and on and on until the telegram came in confirming the president's death.

News began to spread about the president's death and the manhunt for the man known as John Wilkes Booth ensued for roughly ten days. Mrs. Lincoln didn't go to the funeral, it was held in Springfield rather than Washington, D.C, but she didn't stay too long in D.C. Andrew Johnson became president and the details into Booth's attack started flooding in, along with the news that he was shot and killed by a Union soldier in a barn somewhere. That didn't help ease any of the pain I felt about the incident. I never went to the funeral, but I did eventually go to the grave and sat there for a few hours before I could pull myself together and return to D.C. Everything felt so rushed. Those days flew bye so fast that I really didn't know what to think anymore and just receded into the rooms of the White House...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://smolragebaby.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/smolragebaby/)   
>  [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCO6UK9RAfnwSHTEw0xWXz_Q)


	5. The Romanovs, Royal family of Russia

The Execution of Tsar Nikolas II and his family

Russia's POV

July 17th 1918

Everything happens for a reason, right? I could always see it coming soon or later, but I wish it had come much later or a lot soon.

It's cold in my country and hard to grow crops, but I don't see how that is anyone's fault. It has been explosion waiting to happen. The protests, the assassination decades ago, Bloody Sunday as they have named it, and most of all the war. It hit the breaking point.

I do not know how long I had been in there. For the rare moment, I had been given access to see the former tsar and his family. It was for personal reasons. I am rather fond of most members of the royal family, to be honest. They've made some bad decisions, but holding that against them, mainly holding it against the children, wasn't something I agreed with. I've seen these situations play out in other countries and they seemed to play out differently here. Nikolas was smart enough to not put up a fight and abdicate without too much of a fight, but that didn't seem to satisfy them as they were locked away from human eyes.

I sat in the room, braiding Anastasia's hair in the style she had always liked. Most of the others were trying to get some sleep, so we both had to remain quiet. I fondly remember the time I spent playing with her in the palace as a child, I remember playing with all of them, except Alexei due to his fragile condition.

We use to play hide and seek in a specific section of the castle and she was always hard to find. It was easier to find me due to my big stature; however, I discovered some tricks and secrets to be able to hide effectively. To think we couldn't have fun like that anymore. I thought of them like my own younger siblings, no matter their age. It helped since I don't often seen my own sisters anymore.

She sat quietly, humming a lullaby I taught her when she was little. "There. I think it's done." I finished the braid and moved my hands away. She put her hands back to feel how it turned out. "You did a good job like always, Ivan." She turned and smiled at me. "You should get some rest. I promise I'll stay right here when you wake up. "

She nodded then set her head down on the sturdy pillow before falling asleep. This left me alone with my thoughts.

I felt so bad that I couldn't do anything to help them or ease their worry. When the revolution broke out, I couldn't reason with anyone. No one wanted to listen. This Lenin man was apparently convincing and swayed the thoughts of many. I wasn't really surprised by it though. The people of my country live a hard life with the harsh winters and the rushed industrial boom we had. But was this the lengths people were willing to get to have some form of life.

This family can't control the crop conditions. If the crops died, they died and were hard to revive, but that was hardly their fault. But going into this war against Germany wasn't a smart idea when we already have limited supply. In a way I guess I can understand their frustrations, but it's pent up frustrations if anything. Catherine had been an excellent ruler. Sure some of the tsars had been corrupt, but most wanted to try to help, but apparently not in the way the regular citizens wanted.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a small group of men. They had entered the room and started waking up the family along with the small group of servants. I stood up a look at them. "Is something wrong?" I asked, wondering why they would possibly come this late at night. "We're moving them tonight for safety reasons. You'll have to leave." I felt hesitant to let them take the family, but I hardly had much of choice and started heading out the door. I watched them all get escorted out of the room and waved at them as I headed to the exit.

Something was pulling at me to go back and make sure they'd all be okay, but I just kept walking. The steps echoed in the hall making my walk feel like hours rather than minutes. I got out of the door and paused, looking up at the sky. 'Maybe they'll tell me where they're being moved to so I can see them again.' My thoughts burst as the piercing gunfire rang out inside the home. The blood drained from my face.

"No…" I rushed back inside. I kept following the sounds until I heard a few more gun shots, then silence.

The noises led me to the basement. My feet began to feel like lead as I kept getting closer to where I now hear men talking. A door separated me from the dreadful quiet. It only took a light push for it to creak open.

I stepped inside and got a better, yet unwanted view of the massacre. The blood stained the walls and their lovely faces. Alexei's bloody head was near my boot, shot at least twice. I reached down and touched his hair. The blood worked its way onto my hand.

Red. Everything stained in red. I eerily turned to the men, the look on my face seemed to unnerve them ever so slightly. "You did this…" I loomed closer to the group of men, who were ready to shoot. Grabbing one of the guns, I took it and broke it. It was like snapping a twig. "GET OUT!" I yelled, my voice abnormally darker than normal. The men left the room seeing as they had done their job, and I slammed the door in order to be left alone.

I turned back to look at all of them. Sliding my back against the door, I felt unfamiliar tears lining my face. 

This is pain...

The pain of losing the ones you care about. 

The same pain I felt when Alexander was murdered. 

The same pain when Catherine died. Stabbing and twisting the remaining pieces of my heart. Is this the only thing I can truly feel...

It feels...

…so cold….

I stood and walked past them. The blood of the Romanovs now forever stained on my skin and clothes. "You were all living… just moments ago…weren't you..."

Sitting in the pools of blood, I stroked Anastasia's and Tatiana's frightened looking faces. I started to hum a lullaby as I removed a piece of jewelry from their ruined clothes. One by one, I collected a piece from each family member. They were calmly put into my pocket. There used to be a time when blood would make me vomit, just the thought it of it terrified me. I can't understand why I am not. Was this so ordinary to me now… this cold feeling at the sight of it.

I never moved from spot even as the men returned to collect the remains. I didn't stop them. I didn't even look at them. Just knowing that they were being taken away from me for another time didn't faze me.

I just wanted to be left alone...

...in the cold…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://smolragebaby.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/smolragebaby/)   
>  [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCO6UK9RAfnwSHTEw0xWXz_Q)


End file.
